Silver Hair and Circuits
by Ms. Kinnikufan
Summary: The story of Syndrome's and Mirage's past, from when they first met, to their friendship, to their very different romance.
1. Default Chapter

Prologue: The Funeral.

By Ms. Kinnikufan

Disclaimer: I only own Mae Pines, Theresa Pines and Ben, the childhood friend.

Mirage was the one who arranged the funeral for Syndrome, who would have to be buried under his hated "real" name Buddy Pines.

She invited Mae and Theresa Pines, his long lost sisters and Ben, his childhood best friend. Sadly, they had been found by the private investigators three days after he died.

She also invited the Incredibles (only Mr. Incredible came) and his parents (who hadn't spoken to since he run away from his second foster home). She made sure to seat Mr. Incredible next to Buddy's parents, and Ben and his little sisters far away from Buddy's parents.

"I'm so very sorry about the death of your son. He was such...a hard worker and ummm...full of life." Mr. Incredible stammered. He really wasn't sure how to act and what to do when his family asked "How did Buddy die?"

He was planning to say "He died in a plane accident", which was sort of true.

"I always know that boy would go and get himself killed. He was stupid that way." His father gruffly commented.

"Me and Paul here had to get married because I was pregnant with him. I wish now more then ever that my parents had let let me put him up for adoption. I don't want to have to deal with this shit." His mother said.

"You two must be devastated." that's what Mr. Incredible hoped. Surely, Buddy's parents were talking this way because they were devastated and people acted funny when they were devastated.

Buddy's sister came over to Mr. Incredible, making sure to avoid eye contact with estranged parents. She looked quite a bit like Buddy, with frizzy ginger hair and freckles scattered across her face.

"I want you to know that I hold you partly responsible for my brother's death."

Mr. Incredible opened his mouth to say something, but Mae continued .

"Mirage told me what happened to him. She said she couldn't tell me the whole truth, but she did tell me that she could tell a part of him still wanted to be like you, even when he hated you with fiber of his being."

"I-" But Mae continued speaking, despite the fact that Theresa was tugging on her sleeve in a vain attempt to get her to calm down.

"Goddamn it, Mr. Incredible you were the most important person in his life. Far more important then those two bastards here (she indicated The Pine parents)."

"Damn it, we gave you life. You don't talk to us like that!" Her father interrupted.

"You were like his Jesus, Mr. Incredible! His Goddamn Jesus! The least you could have done for him was throw him a kind word his way. "

Mr. Incredible sighed, and rubbed his temples.

"I don't know what to say to comfort you, Mae. All I know, is that if I could go back in time and treat Buddy differently, I would. But while I have superpowers, I'm not Jesus. I can't heal everyone or fix everyone or everything. I'm not perfect as Jesus nor have I ever pretended to be. I couldn't have been Buddy's Jesus, I was busy with other things-giant robots, earthquakes, explosions. I admit I should have been a little kinder to Buddy. But a super-man is still a man. I'm a man. Not a God. Never a Jesus." Mr. Incredible suddenly felt 100 years old.

Mae stared blankly at him.

"Is that all you can say. Corny, almost goofy cliched shit like that? Me, Theresa, Ben, and most of all Buddy, deserve a better explanation then that, you piece of-"

"Mae, kindly take your seat. You may shout at Mr. Incredible more after the mass is over." Mae felt Mirage's hand on her shoulder.

"This isn't over, Mr. Incredible." Mae warned him.

Mr. Incredible slouched even further in the pew and sighed once more. He felt lost.

The funeral mass went on like most funeral masses: praying, crying, more praying and crying.

Ben said a Jewish prayer of mourning (despite the fact that the Pine family was Irish catholic) some of the good times he had with Buddy, most noticeably the time they hid in a house that was rumored to be haunted on a dare . The ghost had turned out to a smelly, filthy, but friendly beatnik. Everybody laughed, including Mr. Incredible, which made Mae fill very angry, because she thought he didn't deserve anymore laughs for the rest of his life.

Then Theresa talked about Buddy and how he took very good care of her when she was a baby. She also told them about how he based Syndrome on a childhood game called "Syndrome the Supers" in where he would play Black Syndrome Buddy, Mae would be Purple Syndrome Mae and Theresa would be Pink Baby Syndrome Theresa. She told of how he gave her the Incrediboy costume to remember him by. That happened when the Social services separated them.

Mae was pleased (well, as pleased as she could be at her brother's funeral) that Mr. Incredible was choked up by that.

Then it was her turn to talk. She talked about how much she missed her brother and how he persevered despite adversary (she glared at her parents when she mentioned this) and how he would tried to protect them from their parents arguments: he would take them to the attic, tell them to close their eyes and sang stuff like "Oh Danny Boy" and "Whiskey in the Jar" until their parents stopped arguing. She told them of the rise and fall of the "Mr. Incredible Fan club" and how he made Mae a" super special senior member" and Theresa "a super special senior junior member" when Mae also wanted a special membership like Buddy and Ben. She even showed off the old tin badges that Buddy made for them, provoking tears from Mr. Incredble.

Then it was Mirage's turn to speak (Mr. Incredible was to be last, Mirage wasn't quite sure what was going to through her mind when she located and invited Mr. and Mrs. Pine to the funeral)

"Buddy Pine always thought of himself as Syndrome, so that is what I shall refer him as.

Syndrome was a very complicated person. Looking back in hindsight, I think he may have exhibited signs of having some sort of maniac-depression. But I'm not sure.

Anyway, he was the first person to show any sort of respect or friendship or a non-sleazy sort of affection. He show me respect until that one moment (she looked at Mr. Incredible for only he knew what that "one moment" was). The results of that 'one moment"...it devastated me and forever tainted what was otherwise one of the most caring relationships I have ever had. I don't think he understood how much it hurt me, even though I knew I wasn't in any real danger." She got a lot of blank stares, most of all from Mr. Incredible.

Huh? she was definitely in danger when I threaten to crush her! She was gasping for air, it's not like she's a robot or anything. Mr. Incredible mind was swimming with many different theories.

"Still, I think he sincerely cared for me at one period of time, and I cared for him back. I like to think, that if were still alive, he would try to make up for that "one moment". But he is not, and if I would built for tears, I would cry." She drew more blank looks.

"I should explain. I'm not a biological being like the rest of you-"

"But you need to breathe! I saw that you need to breathe!" Mr. IIncredible stood up in his pew.

"I'm one of the most advanced A.I. ever built. I am self-learning, am self-recharging, can consume food and liquid without damaging myself, I can feel pain, and I can mimic breathing. But they left one thing out: tears. I would like to do nothing more then shed tears, but I am unable to. That was one of their screw-ups. " Mirage spoke in a very calm, almost emotionless manner.

People gave each other blank stares. Moment upon moment of awkward silence happened. It was interrupted by the Pine father.

"You mean my son was doing it with a robot instead of a real babe?'

Mirage glared at him.

"No, we never did anything like that. He never expected anything like that. Mr. Incredible you may now speak."

Mr. Incredible came up to the microphone, looking surprised.

His speech mainly contained incoherent phrases and clichés about how tragic it is when the young died. Perhaps it was Mirage's revelation, perhaps it was because Mae had glared at him the whole time.

Finally the empty coffin that represented Buddy Pine was buried.

Mr. Incredible and Mirage lingered by the grave while everyone else went for the reading of the will.

"Was what you said true? Are you really an A.I.? Because you seemed really freaked out when I threaten to crush you." Mr. Incredible commented after a long, long silence.

"Yes." Mirage opened her arm showing Mr. Incredible her circuits.

"Wow. You're very well built." Mr. Incredible then blushed and covered his mouth at the completely unintended double entendre.

"Yeah. That's what the C.I.A. intended. "

More silence.

"I think he may have forgotten..."

"Forgot what?" Mr. Incredible asked.

"That was I am A.I. A few days before, I said something sarcastic and he asked me if I had PMS. I told him I couldn't get PMS, remember? He then got this...this hurt, devastated expression on his face like I had told him a family member died. And when he came to justified what he done, he never once mention, 'hey you're mechanical, so if he had broken you, I could have just fix you right back up.' He said he called your bluff. Yes, I think he had forgotten. You know at that moment, I had forgotten that I was an A.I."

"I'm sorry." Mr. Incredible said the only thing he could think of.

More silence. Both continued staring at the ground. A little yellow moth flitted through the air and landed on Mirage's hair.

"So what are you going to do now?" Mr. Incredible asked, despite the fact that it wasn't his business.

Mirage head rose up, disturbing the little yellow moth.

"I cut a deal with the government. In return for unfreezing Syndrome's assets so that Ben, Mae and Theresa can get the inheritance that was left them-"

"He didn't leave anything for his parents?'

"Would you?"

Mr. Incredible remember Buddy's parents cold remarks earlier on.

"No"

"I give them information on who bought weapons from Syndrome and when, then the government says I can be free to live as I see fit. I don't know what I'll do after that. I'd like to get to know Syndrome's sisters better, but I think that they think I'm completely mad and want nothing to do with me. I'll probably find something to do. Maybe I'll teach or do paleontology."

A black van pulled up.

"That's them now. I doubt we'll see each other again, so I'll wish you luck right now."

Mirage got into the black van, her silver hair the last thing to disappear in it.

Mr. Incredible's mind was filled with unanswered questions: How did she come into being? How did she come to work for Syndrome? Why did she care about him?

The story was far more complicated and longer then Mr. Incredible could ever guess...

Next Chapter: We go back in time to where Mirage and Syndrome first meet.

Author's notes: Man, this prologue was way longer then I originally intended it to be.

It's longer then some of one-shots.

Well anyway, I've read some pretty interesting fics about Mirage ( I highly recommend Blackfire 18's Visions of A Winter Scene) and I wanted to write one myself.

Having an extremely weird thought process, I thought "Hey what if Mirage were really an incredibly advance A.I.? and so I started this fic. Hopefully, the audience is not so weirded out or disgusted that will read the next chapter, which goes back into the past (about 7 years after the very beginning of The Incredibles).

Also I'm also writing "The Story of Bob Parr and Buddy Pine", which Mae and Theresa come from. You don't need to read that fic to get this fic (there's only one chapter so far), but It will probably enhance this one.


	2. When Syndrome met Model MiraOdge 2072

Chapter 1: When Syndrome met Mira-Odge Model # 2072

By Ms. Kinnikufan

Disclaimer: I own no one here.

The auction auditorium at the United Technology/Weapons Dealer Expo was quite humid and smelled like very rank old gym socks.

The United Technology/ Weapons Dealer Expo was very secret and very exclusive. It took place on a different secluded island each year. Only the finest and/or wealthiest of weapons dealers/professional assassins/political leaders/eccentric moguls could get in it.

19 year old Syndrome squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. That was his name now, Syndrome. Not Buddy Pine. Buddy Pine was weak and helpless and drug-addicted, Syndrome was not.

As Syndrome, he could forget the mistakes he made as Buddy Pine, he thought as he stared as his neon blue arm-length gloves.

God, he wished he could take the gloves off. But then he might get all sorts of questions about his arms that he just didn't want to answer.

He had only stepped into the action auditorium to see the robots. He didn't intend to buy. Why oh why hadn't he learned about the "you don't get to leave the auction auditorium until you buy something or until the auction is over" rule sooner?

The auction was now into one hour and forty-five minutes. Syndrome was pretty sure that the really, really, fat billionaire sitting next him had passed out from heatstroke or had gone into a diabetic coma. The billionaire had also been wearing a really strong after shave, so Syndrome was on the ninth circle of bad smells hell now.

He had tried to inform the organizers of the passed out man, but they just informed him of the stupid rule.

Good God, he had to get out of this smelly, humid auditorium. He was going to buy the next thing that was up for auction, even if it just was overpriced can opener.

"Now up for auction, Model Mira-Odge #2071!" the auctioneer shouted. It suddenly dawned on Syndrome that the auctioneer looked like something out of a vaudeville picture and that he had the most evil looking mustache ever.

A thin woman of ambiguous race stepped onto the auction stage. They were gasps of shock among the auditorium.

"Hey! I thought we were buying robots, not participating in white slavery?" Syndrome shouted. He had crossed many moral boundaries in order to become Syndrome, but he refused to enslave another person.

"She don't look too white to me buddy," a voice came from the end of the auditorium.

Syndrome flinched at the mention of what he used to be, then realized that the guy was just being rude.

"Ha, you strange whippersnapper with the ugly gloves and dreadlocks! You're not the first one to be fooled by the detailed beauty of Model Mira-Odge #2072. But she's full of gadgets and gears, not organs and blood like us! Model Mira-Odge #2072, why doncha give us some of your history?" The auctioneer spoke rapid paced.

"No." Model Mira-Odge # 2072 voice was cold and flat.

She seemed to have a angry glint in her eyes. Was that even possible, thought Syndrome, since she was a robot after all. Was there even a point to referring to her as "she" since she wasn't biological after all?

"Sassy, ain't she?" The auctioneer gave a nervous little cough.

"Well anyway, Model Mira-Odge was based on the plans of Richard Miran and Donald Odge, two of the C.I.A.'s most beloved A.I. researchers. Their plan was to market the Mira-Odge models as spies. However their funding was cut in favor of developing new atomic bombs. A few copies did get built: Mira-Odge #2072, Miran-Odge# 3478 and Miran-Odge#321. Model#3210 was destroyed in 1932, and Miran-Odge#3478 was decommissioned and is now lying in a warehouse somewhere. So, you find young people, you're looking at a one of kind A.I. She has over 1,000 gigabytes of memory. She is an expert at weaponry, hacking computers, and secretary skills. She can also eat, drink and sweat for show-"

"That's cool and stuff man, but is she also capable of fu-"

Miran-Odge#2072 dearly wished she had some rocket launchers built in so that she could shoot them at that pervert.

"Sorry, my good man, but she isn't...capable of physical relations. She still pretty to look at, ain't she." Some men (and a few woman) wolf-whistled.

Mira-Odge #2072 flipped the audience the bird, but wished she could do more damage. But then she would be reprogrammed or made into scrap metal. Out of the two options, she would preferred to be made into scrapped metal then be reprogrammed, but reprogramming was more likely because she had been very expensive to make. She wondered why she hadn't been reprogrammed before she was put for auction like a lava lamp, but she was glad. If her new owner mistreated her, she was could kill him or her (it would probably be a him) and then make a run for it.

Syndrome felt sorry for her. She wasn't just a robot, she was an A.I. and A.I. meant she had something like feelings. She didn't deserve to be treated like an inanimate object.

"Well start the bidding at $50000!" declared The auctioneer.

"Wait. Just $50000? You said she was one of a kind! Either she's more common then you told us or maybe there's something wrong with her! Tell us the full truth man!" a voice shouted from the crowd.

"Ummm. what would;d be wrong with her? Why would there be anything wrong? We're...ummm just giving you a great deal of price out of the kindness of our hearts. Yeah, that'd it." The auctioneer was sweaty.

Someone in the back snorted and a few pull out ray guns.

"Aright! I admit it! Model Miran-Odge#2072 tried to kill her previous owner-"

"He wouldn't stop touching me and despite the fact that I'm not built that way, tried to have sex with me. I hated that and him. So I broke a bottle on his face the time he attempted to have sex with me. It wasn't like he died. Treat me with respect and I won't try to hurt you." Model Miran Odge #2072 screamed.

Syndrome couldn't quite place his finger on why, but he felt a kinship with this A.I.

"Now dearie, don't get your panties in a bunch!" The auctioneer press some sort of device.

Model Mira-Odge sparkled with electricity and fell down unmoving.

"See, she ain't so hard to control. Plus I'm sure one you bright young fellers can reprogram her so that she behaves all right-"

"Why didn't her previous owner did that?"

"He didn't have the brains to do so. Nor did he have the sense to get someone who did have the brains to do it for him. Anyway bidding starts at $50000!"

"$50000!" Xerek, a mysterious billionaire lifted his paddle.

"Dude, she tried to kill her previous owner!" a fellow inventor questioned Xerek's sanity.

"I'm sure I can reprogram that out of her as well as make her more pleasurable, if you know what I mean!" Xerek said silkily. Several people made disgusted noises.

Syndrome had never really liked Xerek (he was a huge snob), but now he hated him. He couldn't quite place why he cared about what happened to Model Mira-Odge #2072, but he knew he couldn't let her fall into Xerek's sleazy hands.

"$100000!" Syndrome shouted. Everyone stared at him.

The auctioneer coughed.

"Obviously someone has little experience at haggling. Well anyway do I hear $110000?"

Xerek merely looked shock.

"Okay then. Going once, going twice to this the strange looking whippersnapper with ugly dreadlocks and gloves!"

"My name is Syndrome!"

"Whatever, come up here and get your ticket stating that you got the highest bid for her." Syndrome came up and got an official looking ticket of some sort.

"You may now leave the auditorium unless you want to bid on something-huh where he'd go?" Syndrome had sped out of that smelly, humid auditorium like a bat out of hell.

He spent the rest of day wandering around the expo, admiring the exhibits, tried to haggle over the price of a slushy at the concessions and learned that the smelly fat billionaire hadn't gone passed out from sunstroke or had gone into a diabetic coma, he had a minor heart attack. All through the day, the fact that he had just bought the finest A.I. to currently exist had not fully penetrated his mind yet.

Then 11:00 pm came around, time for the expo to close for the day.

"Yeah I have a ticket showing I made the highest bid on Model Miran-Odge#2072." Syndrome handed the man his ticket.

"Well that be cash, credit or check?"

"Credit...people here really carry that much cash around?'

"Sonny, the stories I could tell. Well anyway let us get her out for ya." Some burly man came out carrying out a packing crate that resembled a coffin.

"That's creepy. Really creepy." Syndrome suddenly had a lot of misgivings.

"Yeah, I know son. But I didn't package her. Your transport is out back?"

The four man transported the crate to Syndrome's transport. One whistled at the ship impressive design.

"You built her yourself? It looks kind of like some sea creature."

"I made the designs, but I had additional hands when building it. I based it on a manta ray. Otherwise I'd still be building it."

"Well here's the device when you want to wake her up or turn her on, as some would see." The man made a nudge-nudge-wink-wink motion.

Syndrome repressed a shudder of disgust. He tipped the guys so that they would go away and prepared for takeoff.

Syndrome found staring at the coffin-like crate. She's going to suffocate, he thought, only to be followed by: Don't be an idiot, she doesn't even need to breathe!

The "she's going to suffocate" thoughts eventually won out, which led to him prying off the lid of the crate-coffin thing with a crowbar.

Model Miran- Odge#2072 was lying inert in the crate, her arms folded gracefully across her chest. Someone must have place them in that position.

She looks dead and sort of sad, Syndrome found himself gently touching her face.

What the hell are you doing, this is creepy! She is unconscious you jerk! Syndrome's inner monologue was working overtime.

Well Syndrome, what the hell have you gotten yourself into? Was the first question of his inner monologue.

Next Chapter: Young Syndrome finds out what the hell he's gotten himself into.

Author's notes: I'm assuming Syndrome didn't come up with the costume until he actually started the Omnidroid project. I'm also assuming he didn't come up with the hairdo untill he came up the costume. I'm probably in the majority, but I think Syndrome could carry off dreadlocks well.


End file.
